


Frustrations

by Queen_ofSassgard



Category: Home Fires
Genre: F/M, I had to do it, Oral Sex, Poor Will, awesome sex hair, but cute, damn doorbells, frustrated, less action than the other one, season two spoilers, semi porn?, spoilers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7197506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_ofSassgard/pseuds/Queen_ofSassgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Expansion on a scene(or two) from season two between our favorite Doctor and his wife that lead to Erica's amazing sex hair . . well it's supposed to be but Joyce had other ideas. </p><p>Will's tumor(s) have shrunk 20-30% so it's time for the Campbells to celebrate! And we all know how married people celebrate, but Erica's mommy instincts kick in and it goes in an entirely different direction.</p><p>If you haven't seen season two and don't want spoilers don't read but if you have, have at it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustrations

**Author's Note:**

> The legal bits: I don't own any of this; making no money you know the drill, it's for my personal amusement etc. It all belongs to Simon Block, ITV and those lovely people. You know you bastards at ITV who axed the show? You guys... yha... not happy.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm back I promised I'd be back but between work, cosplay andd surgery it's been crazy.

Some sounds became impossible to ignore once you became a mother; for Erica Campbell the door bell was one of those sounds- never mind her girls were both grown. And had been for a number of years. That creeping voice at the back of her head that worried about Kate and Laura always poked about. It might be an emergency. It might be something about one of the girls'. Oh no that voice always won out, never mind the fact her husband's head was currently planted between her thighs. The girls aside, Will wasn't the only doctor in Great Paxford, so why did it seem like every emergency came their way; even now with all the fallout from Laura's affair with that Wing Commander?

It wasn't as if she wanted to stop. “Will.” she wriggled up the bed. But it wasn't any fun if she couldn't pay attention, properly. And the bell rang again. Twice. That bloody bell had rung twice now. “Will!” she groaned when the flat of his tongue brushed just the right spot. “Doorbell.”

Ever the oblivious one, Will Campbell more than likely hadn't heard it in the first place, and she knew it. “They'll go away.” He insisted; with the news they'd received this afternoon he was in far too good a mood to let someone ruin it over something as trifling as a sprained ankle. There was too much to celebrate. Whoever it was could go to Doctor Clark. The man had to be good for something. “They will go away.” Will grabbed her hips and pulled her back down the bed. “Promise.” Not taking no for an answer he promptly returned his attention to her center.

The village could survive forty-five minutes- an hour if he was lucky- without them. There hadn't been an air raid in a few days, no one was dying. Short of Miriam going into very early labor there was no reason whoever it was couldn't wait- or at least go to Dr. Clark. 

She wiggled back up the bed away from his questing tongue. “Will.” Old habits died hard. “Two minutes.” Erica groaned. “It will take two whole minutes.” Dear god she'd get back at him for this. “It could be important.” 

Damn Miriam. . . she still had a month but damn her. Kicking a leg over his head she scooted off the bed. Better retreat before he got a hold of her again.

“What happened to forty-five minutes of wanton hedonism ?” Will made no effort to hide the fact he was watching his wife's bare arse as she hunted for her knickers.

Twenty odd years of marriage and she knew all his tricks. Primly, Erica snatched the throw from the foot board and wrapped it around herself. “The doorbell happened.” At forty-two he was little better than he had been at twenty-two. How little difference two decades made when their sex life was concerned. It was flattering really- under most circumstances, even if he was little better than a teenager.

Will flopped back on the bed clearly unimpressed. What was the use of the practice being in shambles if he couldn't use it to his own advantage- namely having his wife to himself upon occasion. They hadn't had the house to themselves since before Kate was born after all. But now? Now with Kate away at her nursing courses, and Laura busy with Tom the cats could play with the proverbial mice away. “They will go away sooner or later.” he caught the corner of the throw.

“Is this what twenty to thirty percent better looks like?” Erica snatched it back smirking. He was a teenage boy.

“Come back and I'll finish showing you what it looks like.”

She shook her head. “Someone has to see who's at the door.”

“ 'Someone' can't go down wrapped in a blanket.”

“Of course not.” she scoffed. “It's not my fault you don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, Doctor Campbell. You tossed my knickers somewhere.” Just where were they anyway? Or her blouse for that matter. . . and her bra? It had been too long since they'd had any time to themselves if they'd lost that much of her clothing- never mind his. “It's not funny.” she snorted at his far too pleased expression.

“As I recall, you weren't complaining much- or at all for that matter.” Will supplied holding up her blouse. “Lots of moans, lots of 'Don't stop.' but no complaints.”

Feeling better or not he was too smug for anyone's good. . . especially hers. It never did well to let him get too pleased with himself. Once she'd dealt with whoever it was at the door, Erica would set to dealing with her husband and his all too cocky ways. Laura wouldn't be home for a few hours yet, they could afford to live a little. Right?

“Give me that.” she smirked.

That damn doorbell rang again.

“They will go away you know.”

Sans knickers, or stockings she shimmied her way into her skirt, Erica scowled. “You can wait long enough for me to see to the door can't you? It might be important.” she started toward the door while doing up her buttons.

“Whoever it is get rid of them!” he called after her.

A quick stop at the hall mirror to finish- most of- her button sand tuck her skirt and Erica opened the door. “Coming!” Oh no. No. Somehow Miriam in labor would have been better than this. “Mrs. Cameron!” she tried not to gape.

Looking far too chipper, there stood Joyce Cameron- arguably one of the last people she'd hoped to see. 

“Good day Mrs. Campbell.”

This was not going to go well, she could feel it. “Mrs. Cameron- errr. . . or or should I say Ma-Madam President?” Erica stammered. What on earth could she want at a time like this? It was the middle of the afternoon, there wasn't a WI meeting this evening. There wasn't anything this evening so far as she knew.

“Well arguably, both.” Joyce thus far seemed oblivious to her disheveled hair and still undone top few buttons. (Thank god.) “I've come wearing two hats.” she said.

Two hats? Well if that didn't sound more problematic than she'd first thought. “I'm a little busy at the mom-” Erica began.

Still oblivious- at least she acted as if she were oblivious Joyce continued on. “Hat number one, I would like to reregister with Dr. Campbell.”

Oh well fine. They might as well get this done quickly. “Is that you and Mr. Cameron?” Erica asked quickly.

“Just me.”

“Just you?” Maybe this wouldn't take up more than the two minutes she'd promised Will- maybe. 

“Hat two-” Joyce started in again. “I want to discuss first aid with you.”

Or not. “What about it?” Erica asked making a silent prayer it wouldn't be terribly in depth. A woman could hope couldn't she? Why oh why did she have to answer the ruddy door? 

Joyce stepped through the door, clearly bent on an actual conversation. “If a bomb fell on the village once it could do so again. Ordinary people should be trained to deal with injuries in the event of an explosion. If a victim is left untreated before they get to hospital, by the time they get there it may be too late.”

“It's an excellent idea,” Joyce did have a point for all she didn't want to admit it at this very moment. A very good point but a point for another time. “Unfortunately as I've...”

“So why don't you put the kettle on and I'll explain to you what I have in mind.”

Oh no. Oh no no no no. Putting the kettle on meant an hour minimum where Joyce Cameron was concerned. The only person in the village who could talk longer than she could was Frances Barden. Now was not the time- that bloody woman had already started toward the sitting room before Erica had much of a chance to open her mouth again. 

She was never going to live this one down.

**Author's Note:**

> Frances Grey and her amazing sex hair are to blame for this. I had to do it. There was no choice.


End file.
